Sexy Heels
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: "Keep them on- I just love those heels. Every time I see you in them, I just want to have you." Au-ish, Ragosa/Oc


Cami had just given a piece of her mind to her boss, remaining cool and collected, almost detached, the whole time. Dr. Cummings didn't seem too moved by her declarations, nor he seemed to care too much about her opinion, and she looked at him giving her his back, leaving in an hurry. His body language – and his expressions as she reminded him that he did hire her out of a charity and that she was a doctor, too, so he couldn't really expect her just worry about the money – were screaming that he was even beyond mad with woman, and that the reason he was actually hurrying so much was because he was, probably, going to get her pink slip ready.

Hearing the silence all around her, Camila closed her eyes shut for a second, straighten herrself, and turned to look at her stuff, staring at their new boss in an astonished silence. "Well? Showtime's over, people!" She clapped her hands once. "All right, back to work everyone! The ER is not going to run itself on its own!"

The buzz of the chatter and the jingle and beat of the instruments filled the air once again, as she readjusted the palin beige suit jacket and steadily walked back into her office, closing the door at her back. Once inside the security of her room, she started to hyperventilate, pacing the room with an hand on her chest, feeling her own heartbeat, and one on her forehead.

"OHGODOHGODOHGODGODPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE…." She muttered breathlessly, walking from her soon to be ex desk to the couch and back, again and again and again, just to collapse in a whimpering mess on said couch, head between her knees as she tried to make this mini panic attack pass – or at least, she praied it would.

The door squeaked, and she clenched her teeth, lifting her head just enough to see who'd come to disturb her nervous breakdown and give a piece of her mind to them, too- and in a totally uncontrolled and uncollected way, this time – when she saw it was actually her "_boyfriend" - significant other, or whatever actual adults called a relationship that was more dating and less than engaged- _Dr. Michael Ragosa. It made her feel a little better- but just a bit.

"You are not going to leave me alone so that I could swallow my misery on my own, are you?"

"Nope," he chuckled, making his way towards his woman. He stood before her, arms crossed, way too amused for his own good, given her current predicament. "Ah, c'mon, look at the bright side: if Cummings fire you, you'll at least get a severance package and insurance. Differently from me."

"That's not funny, Mike." She shook her head, looking as pale as a ghost. "I had to _pay _Wes to get a divorce, and now I'm a single mum and soon I'll be unemployed and I'll have to get back to Chicago and my parents already don't like me because I'm a divorcee and because I'm a doctor just like John and they didn't want to see neither of us not being lawyers and my grandmother left everything to our charity so now I'm basically penniless and I think I'm about to have a nervous breakdown?"

He moved, kneeling before her, his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them, rolling her joints. Cami closed her brown eyes, moaning blissfully at his touch. She had to admit that, when he wanted, he could really be a sweetheart, and he understood her, better than many people who claimed they knew her oh soll – her family included.

_(Especially _her family, actually_)_

"Feeling better?" He asked her, cupping her cheek. She nodded, covering his hand with her, and interlacing their fingers. He smiled at his woman, kindly.

"I really don't want to go back to Chicago. This is… I'm feeling like a normal human being for the first time in a very long time, and Steve's finally gotten his routine, and I really, really, don't want to get back in the same city of my parents and my ex."

He smirked. "Good to hear that I'm the reason you don't want to leave San Antonio."

"Ah, you know what I mean." She sighed, a bit dramatically, looking in his eyes. "Mike, I love you, but I've already put my life on hold for a man once, I'm not going to do it again. I've always sacrificed myself so that Wes could get wherever he needed to be, and I've looked the other way for far too long. My son comes first. And I come second. I'm so sorry, but this is how it works with me."

"I know." He nodded. "Trust me, I know. I'm a divorced father, and I've spent the last years moving from side to side of the Country to follow them just to be a presence in their lives. I love you, but I'm a parent first, and a doctor next, and then… then, whatever is left of me, is yours."

"Good." She nodded, sniffing. "Good."

He nuzzled her nose, and she chuckled lightly, even if her eyes were still a little teary. She closed them, and sighed, content, as Michael's lips delicately perched on her own, in a tender kiss that tastes like mint and coffee and vanilla and sugar- he probably eat something sinfully sweet before starting the shift – and she pulled him against her body, her arms now around his neck, her fingers dancing on his scalp, sinfully scratching the back of his head in a way that made him moan against her lips.

His tongue searched for her own, it's like it's chasing it, and once she gave up, smiling in the kiss, as he teased her. She suddenly lost what little willpower she had left, and, almost as he was sensing it, he encircled her hips with a strong arm and lifted her up as she weighed nothing at all, never parting his lips from hers. She wrapped her legs round his waistline and squeezed, rubbing her clothed and quickly drenching sex against his hardening erection.

With Cami wrapped around him like a vine, he walked backward towards what used to be his desk, many and many years before. She squirmed in his embrace, giggling against his lips as she heard the thud of all the objects he made fall from her desk in order to free the surface for Cami to seat on. His hands run quickly all over her body as he never ceased to kiss her, and hers weren't idle either, as she squeezed the fabric of his light blue scrubs on his back and run the other through his jet black hair.

With her heeled feet, still crossed at his back, she pushed him towards herself, feeling with her lower body that he was more than primed for her. He seemed to appreciate, as a guttural moan escaped his sealed lips, blending with her gasps of pleasure. She was already on fire, had long stopped pretending to care that this was her workplace and that her boss could have come to talk with her any minute, when she loose what little reason she was left with as Michael's hands moved to her sides, and sneaked underneath her prime and proper blouse. His fingers danced on her skin, as his mouth left her own. She'd lament the loss, if she wasn't too busy sighing and moaning as he started leaving a trail of wet kisses on the column of her ivory neck.

He finally parted from her and, his forehead against hers, he panted. He lifted his head, looked for Cami's eyes, and, as he saw them clouded by desire and sheer want, something just snapped in him, and in an heartbeat he was yet again devouring her lips, as his hands made quick work of her jacket and shirt. She wasn't not so idle either, as she palmed his chest underneath the scrubs. They both stopped kissing just long enough to get rid of her shirt and his scrubs, throwing each and every article of clothing on the ground.

He took a few steps back, and he just stared at her, sat on her own desk, in what used to be his office, and he shook his head, almost in disbelief – a disbelief only made bigger when Cami, little minx that she was, undid her bra, and let it fall on the floor with a seductive move.

He swallowed, hard, as his chest rised and fell in a quick succession of crazy heartbeats and pants. "God, sweetheart, you have no idea how much I love you right now..." He sighed as he looked at her, squeezing her breasts together like a consumed porn star and she bite down on her lip, hard, consumed by lust and want.

He looked from Cami and the door and back again, and in one swift movement, he locked the door and he came back to his girl. Giggling, she willingly accepted him when he started to devour her lips yet again, as he was a starving man whose only lifesaver was her mouth.

"Are you sure?" He asked her as his hands went to her skirt, ready to lift the piece of azure fabric just enough to have her thenre and then. She nodded, trembling head to toes as he pressed his clothed-covered sex against her femininity.

"No- with your voice. Tell me you want this. me. now." He swallowed ahrd, looking for her eyes. He was more serious than what he should have been, than what he used to be when they were in bed together, and she felt like crying, for she understood all too well what he was asking for her. He loved her- he just told her so – and he didn't want for them to be over, done, even if she could have to leave the hospital sooner or later.

"Yes," with glassy eyes, she cupped his face, and nodded again. "Yes, Michael. Of course I want you."

His mouth returned to kiss hers, his eyes blissfully closed. She lifted her hips just enough to lift the skirt and allow Michael to get rid of the black scrap of fabric passing as panties- a match to her bra. He fumbled with his pants, just lowering them enough to free his erection without actually taking anything off. He spread her thighs and positioned his erection against her, his tip teasing her intimity.

She swallowed hard as he finally let go of her lips, allowing her to breath once again. He didn't give her any peace, though, as he bit down on her lobe, sucking it as he whispered words that took her breath – and her reason – away.

"You have no idea how much I'd like to taste you right now- but I can't wait. God, sweetheart, you were so fucking hot giving that asshole of Cummings a piece of your mind- can't believe that I used to be just like him. Finally getting why T.C. always wanted to punch me…"

"You're not… any longer… you… you changed." She searched for his month, and stole a series of open-mouthed kisses, panting against his lips. "Stop talking… about other men."

He grinned- in a yes, ma'am way – and he devoured her mouth once again, giving Cami all of himself. His hands moved to her ass and she cling with all of herself to his virile neck. She didn't hear anything, just their pants in the quiet of the room, and their crazy heartbeats mingling together. He entered in her, filled her up, their bodies fitting together in that perfect way that always amazed Cami, because she truly felt like they were each other's perfect half, like they somehow belonged together, were made for each other and each other alone.

With her ankles crossed at his back, she went to slip her heels off, but Michael stretched his arm behind and grabbed her tiny feet, stopping her. She just lifted an eyebrow, quizzically, and he smirked against her mouth.

"Keep them on- I just _love _those heels. Every time I see you in them, I just want to have you." She smirked in return, happy to comply, lazily scratching his back with her stiletto heel, making him mutter a course under his breath.

And then…. Then, someone knocked on the door, calling for her out loud, and it's like someone just threw a bucket full of ice on the both of them. Michael swore yet again and left the humid heat of her body; in a record time, they both throw everything underneath her desk, hiding to the sight of the disturbing element the mess they had made of Cami's office. She lowered the skirt and put on from the head the shirt, herr boyfriend doing the same, and she threw him a binder, ordering him to seat before the desk and pretend to be checking data, or anything, really, and only then she finally opened the door, just to find her actuall boss- ugh, how much she hated him – in front of herself.

"Dr. Cummings. Anything else I can do for you?" She asked, cool and collected as was were when they had first "argued" with each other in the corridors of the ER.

"I just wanted to tell you that I've been thinking about discussing yours and Dr. Clemmens' opinions with the board. I think you could have a point."

She glared at him as she wanted to actually kill him. _Of course we have a point, you idiot. What do you think you hired me for? _"Is that all?" She asked, crossed arms over her chest- hoping he wouldn't notice that she wasn't wearing any underwear. At all.

"Yes. I'll let you know when the board will arrange the next meeting." He nodded in her direction, and then in Michael's direction, who nodded in kind, stiff. "Dr. Ragosa."

She left out a breath of relief and scratched her head as her boss finally leftm them well alone. "All right, now go. Go, go, go, back to work!" She hisse.d The magic's over- even Michael knew that, too. He wasn't stupid enough to try and seduce his girls. For now.

He stopped at the doorstep and turned towards her. "Well, Ma'am, I'm happy I could help with those data."

"Of course. Thank you, Dr. Ragosa." She nodded. "So, I'll let you know if I'll need further explanations."

"You're welcome." He grinned, chuckling shamelessly as, with a sleight of hand, he stole her panties from her skirt pocket, hiding the black fabric in his own.

"Michael! Give them back!" She screamed at low voice, and he tsk-tsked her.

"Nope. Every time I'm not thinking about a patient, I want to remember that you are sitting _here_ without your underwear. And I want you to know that, as soon as shift is over, as soon as _everyon_e is in the break room, _we_ are to going to get into an on call room and finish what we started."

She pretended to ponder it, and then, she bit her lips, like a little minx. "OK, fine, but now go. People's going to get suspicious if you keep whispering to me."

Looking around as to make sure no one was looking, he stole one last kiss, and then he went back to the ER, smug and stupid smile in place, grinning like a cat who got the canary, and immediately he wnet to work on a chart like nothing had happened at all.

"You know, if you don't wipe that grin from your face, everyone will know that you just got lucky with our boss." TC teased him, as he left a chart on the deskjust to take another folder.

"Ehy, at least we didn't make a video like you and Jordan." T.C. stared at him, as Michael teasingly hit him with a folder on the chest. "Oh, you didn't know we have security cameras in the elevator? My bad!"


End file.
